Читать книгу Idylls of the Sea, and Other Marine Sketches онлайн

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At last from among the brooding men one figure detached itself and became prominent with an unearthly significance. He was an old and feeble man named Peter Burn, unfitted in any case to endure much longer the ordinary stress of a sailor’s life. But suddenly his frailty seemed to obtrude itself persistently upon our notice until his worn-out frame became almost transparent. Towards the close of this moribund state of the elements Peter’s mind grew retrospective. His present surroundings seemed to fade from his knowledge, becoming, as far as he was concerned, non-existent. Hour after hour he would lie yarning incessantly of bygone exploits in long-forgotten ships on many seas. In the long, quiet evenings all hands that were able would gather round with pipes aglow and listen silently to his babbling, flowing like a placid stream of sound, contrasting curiously with the lurid language in which he revived the scenes of riot, bloodshed, and license of his distant youth. He still relished a pipe, although he hardly seemed aware whether it was alight or not. But there was always some one ready to catch it as it fell from his trembling jaws, or to support it tenderly with one hand while a light was applied with the other. Day by day his detachment from present things increased. He lived only in the misty past, his immediate environment became a perfect blank, and he called his shipmates by strange names. Of any want of the consolations of religion he manifested no sign, and as there was none to offer them, the pathos of that dreadful indifference passed unnoticed.